Saturday
5 February 2000
10 30 pm pst [ hope chest ]
As soon as my father told me it wasn't in his safety deposit box, I knew exactly where it was. Many years ago my mother had given my brother and I matching cedar chests. She called them hope chests, and she said they were for collecting memories and momentos for later in life. Months later, she said she might have gotten the name wrong, but it stuck for my brother and I, and we call them our hope chests to this day.
A rich cedar smell wafts up at you when you open that chest. I have elementary school book reports, teeth, all my grades, and autobiography I wrote about myself in third grade, and so many other memories. Tonight it was easy for me to find my letter.
I thought I could just type it up, but there are doodles and check boxes. This is a job for a scanner.
It is dated 2 May 1989. I write it is Tuesday. I write my cast is coming off in two days. I detail what I won at each horseback riding show and ask myself if I still have the ribbons.
I lay claim to another piece of my past. I unravel myself. I am a hunter. I am the prey. Will my children ever have any interest in these slices of my existence?
For no reason in particular, I got dressed up to go to the market. This meant I wore my new dress shoes. I love anything with a heel because I love to be taller, but I can't actually walk in heels, so I always resort to platforms. Payless has great non-leather, cheap dress shoes.
I also put on lipstick. I did so because I found an unopened lipstick in one of my dresser drawers and I got curious about how the color would look on me. I haven't put on lipstick in at least a year.
When I got home, I made a lipstick kiss on a paper towel, so I can put it in a letter to Matthew. Now he will always have one of my kisses whenever he needs it. Valentine's Day is obviously in the air. On Thursday I will be flying up to Berkeley to see him and celebrate the day of love.
two years ago today: "I never cease to be blown away by the capabilities of the human eye. Sometimes, as I walk through campus, I make my eyes dart around and marvel at the ability of my eyes to instantaneously focus onto different planes. Eyes are the perfect cameras."
* * *
one year ago today: "I had lost my voice when I woke up this morning, but I kept on using it and now it is almost back to normal. My prof e-mailed me that I could do my honors thesis with her, which is very exciting, but also scares me quite a bit. My man came over this morning with tears in his eyes.... I was happy to be able to comfort him..."
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